i’m not bragging, well, brodsky had to leave , he had a different character, he had a different character, it was not for nothing that he wrote the cry of a hawk, and i wrote about seagulls and swallows, well, then they really didn’t publish him, they held a trial for him, over him shameful, of course, for him... but i must say that he was bored there, in fact, i know this, because when i asked him, how are you doing here, i and you were allowed to visit him, me they didn’t let me out in soviet times, then they let me out, i said, well, how do you like it here, he says, yes no, it doesn’t matter, he wrote an angry poem against me, which was called... a letter

to an oasis, wow, we are an oasis, but in what year, in ninety-one, two, when, excuse me, we had nothing to eat, i was terribly upset, well, just like that , such a disagreement happened , then he apologized, then they made up again, everything was restored, everything was fine, he performed before that, then at my evening it was very good, seeing him, here he is, he wrote some wonderful words, here’s something else, you know, you can show it, you know, on may 18, 1972, the second year, this is when he was leaving, as it happened, i was working part-time back then, not at school, of course, on newsreels, reading some stuff there... i went out, and

he came towards me, but we hugged, that’s all , and he says, i want to go to marina, you wait for me, to marina basmanova, she pressed rimsky korvsky nearby, and why does he want to come, and i want to tell her about leaving, that is, he made the final decision to leave, i ... i was terribly upset by this, of course, but he received the nobel prize, i tell him, well, you see, you left, you won, but i didn’t, i lost , and he says, i don’t think so, because he didn’t have a happy life there, but did davlatov live a happy life, no, and you, you’re lucky, no, i ’m not dreaming everything for myself now, but i’m not complaining , at least i’m not complaining

, joseph brodsky, well, buraaniya’s book is absolutely funny, to dear alexander from...

joseph who loves him dearly, signature new york, and it also goes across, attention, attention, to you there is a rush, he, of course, remembered our childhood games, attention, attention, germany is coming at you, in my childhood this was customary, everyone knew this, so he used it. and how did you communicate together then, what brought you together, what brought you together, the poems brought you closer together, of course, i loved his poems, he treated mine well, it’s true, so you know, when he died, for me it was the most difficult impression, it was a most difficult event and... maybe

its character will be clear from these poems, which i wrote this poem in the same year. when he died in ninety-six, i looked at the poet and thought, it’s lucky that he writes poetry and doesn’t rule rome, because both are called power, and under his pressure we wouldn’t have been for years... if he had enclosed everyone in the lines of stanzas with iron san-jaman, lives in the direction of glory and disaster and threatening a tyrant, he was a tyrant, and i wouldn’t have my head

to endure even more so, the lyrical gift and love for objects, with indifferent success. his sovereign warmed by a decidedly soft light, in his verses, his power with an exterminated cry and contempt for the two-legged, jealous of the stars, climbed into my heart in a happy moment, inaccessible to coliguls or thunderstorms... blinded me, lifted me above the clouds, to which i myself hunter, i asked him, after all, hush, hush , give me my room, armchair, and armrest,

and loved me, and tyrannized me, i like it, swallows with blue fabric in scissors, quickly... running to the far edge of heaven , kissed me. god be with you. well, this is clear, this is the attitude. you know, wonderful poets , or at least good ones, to put it mildly, are very often jealous of each other. it happens, it’s normal, it’s very humanly understandable. the poet adheres to his line, his understanding of life, not changes himself, and this is very important. in voronezh , at an aircraft factory, i saw how the soviet supersonic superliner tu-144 was born,

it was taken to the airfield and it rang, hummed, fluttered, washed into the sky, and how a huge deity disappeared into the blue , magbastuz, but...

alone land, one family, one future. premiere of civilization. film six. india, on thursday, on the first. dear friends, today the creative industry podcast is visiting the

favorite city of the brilliant poet alexander kushner. we are in st. petersburg. and something i tell me i haven’t read one poem about love yet. well, let’s give it a good read, for some reason the readers somehow treat it well, i’ll read it, this was even before i was introduced to the visual universe, it was written. comparatively long ago, to be unloved, my god, what a blessing to be unhappy , to walk home in the rain, with a lost red face, what torment, grace, to sit with your lip bitten, to die 10 times a day, and says: by yourself, what a life to go crazy like a shadow

staggering around the room, what a joy it is to wait for a letter for months and not to wait, who told us that the world is at our feet, lies in tears, agrees to everything, he is indifferent and cruel, but truly. what should i do with my grief? sleep, your head will be covered at night. whenever i wasn't happy with him, i would stop loving myself. don't be afraid. okay, what about happy love? as for happy, yes, with pleasure. this creation is somehow completely different, my life began after we met, without looking at each other, and began to live. together, since then we have lived a lot, what, more than 40 years together, what happiness is with you

talk, talk, talk, that’s joy, all evening creep in night and night, oh, how it stretches, starry, thin thread, stitching through this darkness, this pit, wolf-like, you won’t reach the nearest star in a year, together in a bearish corner , a somewhat deaf universe, to wake up in a crowded room with an armchair and a round table, about life, about death, about what could have missed each other, could have happened for...

while we were kept in the dark, flowers on the tablecloth, that's what i like here, about the fabric bliss, about the wonderful midday moisture, do you remember, willie, do you remember how two threshold passed in verse, roman, frightening away the age-old. about the cold, about the crust, the snow-covered, poor land

that we love, jealous of the heavenly home, well, this is a poem, well, i’m very named here - this is a divine poem, one of my favorite italian villas, for those who don’t remember, read it, very i recommend. just in case, i’m sure they’ll like it, well , we’re still thinking about who created this life, you said that there is no hell, and why there is only heaven, i’ll explain, because i can’t imagine god crying, which, what is a? this is unimaginable, how can you

torture a person every day, torture him every day with fire, ice and so on, what are you, how can god be like that? i am absolutely sure that there is no hell, but what about heaven? on this score, i think, i dare say , that raile can also get boring, the same thing all the time, to tell the truth, i am many years old, i feel, i am no longer tired of life , i am tired, and if you imagine

so many more well, what if it’s infinity, what do you mean? special events in the history of the earth are very much awaited a serious illness , it is still called disease x, the world will turn upside down, women will not give birth, everything will be launched as artificially as they launched covid, my son died, i paid for everything, this is the price, i and fanga are on a constant energy sustenance , each of us wants to hear

positive forecasts, i don’t want to scare you, sometimes it’s better to hear everything without beauty, secret depravity. let's put an end to the sensational story now, this bold special issue, tomorrow on the first, this is the main thing in vanga's opinion, what can save us, where they come from poetry, if not, if not from there, that is , there is no one there, why not, and where do you tell me, the game of chess comes from, and where does the car come from, huh? where does higher mathematics come from and so on, it’s all the human mind, it’s wonderfully designed, this is really a miracle, i just can’t understand how it arose, how it’s a mystery, the mystery remains, i don’t know its solution, i’m speaking honestly, i don’t say yes no, i

even have poems about believing in god, or not believing in god, the vyred road knows about this, the sea wave in crimea knows about this, i was open or was i closed to him, do i write with capital letters or lower case letters and so on, that is, it no longer doesn’t matter, you know, what’s important is that i don’t know, no, he’s speaking in the shadows, no, i’m saying, in the shadows, on the sun, yes , that’s it, come on... i’ll read you another story: my friends, there were many of them, none of them believed in god, as is customary now, the iconostasis consisted of fet, tyutch block, when they fooled with their heads

, have a conscience, they said, their voices were bitter and quiet, they didn’t go to party meetings, there were no party members among them, their books were cut by censorship, their the fool's bullet spared him, and some of them went through arrest, they looked gloomily from distant places, returning, like wild flowers, they knew how... to please anyone, a snowdrop, a buttercup, says the light, and i, the young ones were drawn to them, was warmed by their attention , there was authenticity in them, modesty, superfluous words, spirituality, i don’t remember in restrained speeches, death, well death, there was a readiness for it and

silence, not fear. we are talking about my older friends, here is ldiginsburg, berkovsky, maksimov and so on, and so i am not lying in this poem, it’s true, it’s really, how do you feel about those who have left now? i will say one thing: writing poetry in a foreign country is difficult, very difficult. uh, joseph complained to me in recent years there in ninety -four, ninety-five that they don’t write poetry, but we know georgy ivanov, a very... good poet from the old days, but he still belongs to that emigration, he had a hard time, poems were written with with difficulty, khadasievich,

who left, gave up writing poetry, but such a wonderful pavet, well, whoever’s fate will be like this, i can only say about myself, now they say that our time has given birth to a new... wave of new young writers, poets, do you see this wave? you know, yes, it seems to me that somehow less poetry is being written , but maybe this is a mistaken opinion, and then this is an uneven process, in the times of tyuchy and feto it was believed that there was no poetry, that there was pushkin and lermontov, but... it is finished, nikrasov is the only one left, but we know that this is not so, and tyuchiv is wonderful, we read ifet, inokintiansky, a wonderful poet,

and so on, so maybe it seems to us, it is quite possible that in some torshke, the young man is now writing wonderful poetry, how do we know, i ’m sure there are such people. russia needs poetry, i’ll read a comic poem , little one, the one who doesn’t dance dances , davlatov loved him, the one who doesn’t dance dances, taps on a glass with a knife, the one who doesn’t proudly dances, the one who doesn’t dances shouts from the podium, the one who dances in the very in fact...

where do you get your energy and how to make life around you consist of swallows and not of hawks, i honestly don’t know.

so you can say, this is a gift of fate, here when you write them, you are happy, and i am sure that pushkin was a happy man, and this, despite all the troubles of his life, well , who knows, the same thing, and the same can be said, and the same can be said about artists, the same can be said about composers. i recently read berberova’s book about tchaikovsky, it was a very difficult

life, i never thought it was so difficult, i won’t go into details, but his music is amazing, really, but just remember the queen of spades, youth has the same, maturity has the same others, are there any, any joys in old age, i i’ll tell you the truth, old age, times are hard, i won’t lie, all sorts of people appear.

for a long life it is called old age, but fate tells the old man, you are punished, live, and lives with admiration, excitement, hope and joy; those who did not live to old age do not know everything, or bi, and so on. during the pandemic , a poem went viral on social media. you don’t choose times, they live and die in them, why did people find this poem again , made it terribly popular, yes, they liked something there, i’m not against this poem, only it was written earlier, to the pandemic has nothing to do with it, well, that means it says something that people need, they don’t choose times, they live in them and... “

there is no more vulgarity in the world than begging and blaming, as if you can use these, like in the market to change what is not an age, then an iron age, but a wonderful garden is smoking, a cloud is shining, i should have died of scorlet fever at the age of 5, live in an innocent age in which..." no, you are asking yourself to be lucky, but in a terrible you don’t want to live, you don’t dream of the plague, florentine and leprosy, you want to travel in first class, not in a trium in the semi-darkness, what is not a century, is an iron century, but the wonderful garden is smoking, the cloud is fading, i will embrace you, my century, my fate, goodbye. time is

a test, do not envy anyone, tight, close embrace, time is skin, not a dress, its deep imprint, as if fingerprints from us, its folds, if you look closely, you can take it. you are watching the podcast precious history, my name is ekaterina varkan, today my guest is ekaterina obraztsova, director, honored artist of russia and granddaughter of sergei vladimirovich obraztsov. we thought so we decided to stay with sergei vladimirovich today in his memorial apartment. and i assure you that many of the things that we will see and hear have never

been voiced on television and... the organization of the theater, he staged plays, invented individual characters, made dolls, he had solo concerts, or he performed at concerts, even performed in the st. george hall of the kremlin, in group concerts, and there he played puppet numbers, because he discovered a new genre, romances with dolls, this was the original pretty doll, she i sang a romance, come back, i’ll forgive everything. this

doll was put on the head, living hands were pushed through the fabric, here there are also such variants of this doll, and two more variants, on these hands of sergei vladimirovich there were rings, in general, grandfather had amazing hands, i have never seen such plastic hands, probably never, like his famous tyapa number, which is here... on your screen, no one can repeat it, because it is an amazingly virtuosic work of hands, which means these rings were used in this doll, and so that the shirt doesn’t get in the way, like in the old days accountants wore things like this, so the shirt was removed so that the hands were exposed, all this was on grandfather,

these two rings... somehow, when this number was not played, they were given away me, and i then served as an artist in the sfera theater, played in these rings, such a garley fashion. was it so, i played madame chasen, i was wearing these grandfather’s water rings. katya, i know that sergei vladimovich divided things into two most important categories. yes, to the necessary and necessary ones. the necessary things are a chair, a table, a fork, a knife, and necessary - this is what is necessary for the soul, without which it is impossible to live, what will be the imagination. and he always said, regarding his colleagues. which we will talk about later , that i look at these things, i imagine how a child played with this doll, like in this mask, some kind of ritual actions, this will be imagination, this gives rise to some ideas

and these things necessary, i was invited some time ago to the good morning program by karina muromtseva, and she and i talked about the vessels in which, so to speak, some things, in mostly craftsmen make boats like this, i said that i know one. a house where there is a vessel in which there is a thing that, in addition to beauty , also has practical significance, this is a decanter, a cockerel, i did a lot of work, glass makers, they say, we don’t know the one that sergei vladimirovich had, what is the secret? the secret is that vodka was poured into this decanter, and part of this vodka ended up in the cockerel, in my opinion, 50 g. it was completely poured out of the cockerel.

well, it means he already managed to sing with us, so we’ll tell you about him, there were three, one nemirovich daichenko, and another such nightingale, i know, is in trigorskoye, in the proskovi wulf museum, this is their estate , pushkin’s neighbors, which means according to mikhailovsky, when i ’m there, i also always try to listen to the nightingale singing the feeling, that you feel all sorts of things.

and chased pigeons across the roofs, this was from childhood and he started pigeons at the dacha , everyone knew him at the poultry market, his name was oh, vladimirovich came, there are many photographs, he is at the poultry market, at the dacha he built a dovecote, and there he there were pigeons, and after some time, quite large, he was found to be allergic to... pigeons, which means he, he really liked it, he put it on the guests, showed the thermometer, look, i have 36.6, now look, i go up to the dovecote, come back, 39, his mother and wife

screamed at him terribly so that he would stop abusing his body like that, he said, well, it’s interesting, well, how is it, well, in general, my mother always cleaned up after these pigeons... she took care of my grandfather, just like she looked after the crocodiles, and where did the crocodiles come from? they lived in an apartment, the crocodiles america, at first they are small like this , chaliapin’s son gave them to him, his grandfather studied with him at the vkhut imas, then chaliapin went to america, not in america, gave him two of these crocodiles that grew into huge ones , their names were totosha and kakosha, then later they lived in the palace of pioneers. in the theater, first they lived in an apartment, then in the theater, and then in a place, although the pool was built for them, yes, but they outgrew it, but sergei vladimirovich would be strange, he had a very large collection of toys,

a puppeteer, it’s impossible without toys, they’re made of clay, they’re made of wood, that’s all understandable, yes, but there were some strange things, made of corn cobs, bamboo, seeds, mocha seeds.

he didn’t believe in any infernal things , he laughed a lot at them, he especially laughed when he was asked the question, in your doll museum, what happens at night, how the dolls move there, but it just made him laugh, he’s not into it believed, and i believed in my youth, he also laughed at me, well , it still feels very good, especially at drumstick, sensations? strange and another one , also quite a strange mask, heavy

for me, which he received as a gift from the great juliet maazina, but also scary, he was friends with masina, this is known, this is the famous story when juliet maazina was asked what you liked better all in moscow , she said samples, that was the answer, well , the girl had good taste, that... katya, but there besides, that means, in general, these are very personal, personal things, personal attachments, although what are we talking about now let's say further, there was also a personal interest, but sergei vladimirovich has completely unique things, the needlework of maria fedovna, the wife of pavel petrovich, that is, the tsar, the emperor, yes, paul i, she was a great needlewoman, which means this thing, this is on blue silk, the silk has faded a little, here. cut out of paper, which means a drawing

pasted on, applied, but she was a great needlewoman, and even cut out medals, cups on lathes, and ekaterina alekseevna, her mother-in-law, yes, this is empress catherine the second, she kept saying that you are taking away work from the mint, you do it all so brilliantly, but this is such a unique thing, which means sergei vladimich has in his collection, and also a wonderful panorama of nevsky prospect of st. petersburg, these are those. with such wooden things it rotates and you can walk along the sky on one side , on the other, maybe on the other, and that means in thirty or six, a northern bee in bulgaria wrote that not only are the houses there, so to speak, but the windows are all spelled out like that people recognized each other, fashionistas and dandies. among the fashionistas, it means that our friend pushkin is there running across the nevsky

angolland church, but the people who saw this panorama at that time, they recognized themselves and their friends, it was very powerful, well, this is generally a rare thing, there are really few of them , there are very few of them, here is sergei mikhailovich nekrasov , my co-host, i consulted with him, he said that of course there are not two or three, but a very limited number, but probably included in 10, but this is a very... large number, this thirties of the 19th century, here from sergei vladimirovich, it means that this absolutely, marvelous, masterpiece thing appeared from somewhere, the message of the president of the russian federation vladimir putin to the federal assembly, live broadcast on february 29 at 12:00 moscow time, we continue our conversation, today at visiting...

a magnificent puppet master , the cartoon union, i also knew him very well, oleg massainov, who began to understand this mechanism, brought these monkeys to life, they are amazing, they open and close their eyes, play instruments, everything moves with them,

they are smiling, this is absolutely unique, well, how is it, this is, in general, this is an old machine gun, even... we won’t show them all, but we

can show one of them even in a working sound form. this is a barrel organ of a famous german master , for my studio, now i don’t remember his last name , but this is a very valuable barrel organ, but who would doubt it, so they showed how it was alive, katyusha, there was also such a so -called napoleon table, one that is decorated by guests. and this girl found a table somewhere in an antique store in st. petersburg, it was all tattered, painted over with brown paint , like a leg, uh, but grandfather liked this leg, i think he took this table, looked at something, looked closely, saw that something was shining through, called an antique dealer,

who, a restorer, or rather , a restorer who somehow cleaned it all up, it turned out that there were portraits of napoleonic army, and it was done in the old way, like a decal, here’s the story, here ’s napoleon, here’s josephine, marshals, napoleonic marshals, who is this, who is this could, that means order, or some, so to speak, french officer, then we captured it, we captured it, it’s much more interesting who painted it over, which means someone was scared, probably. i didn’t want them to see these portraits of him , apparently it was like that for a while, no, well, there were great admirers of napoleon at one time, and maybe later, in fact, out of fear, they painted it over, well , uh, because you know such beauty just like that, you can’t paint it over, so imperceptibly selannich became a party member, let’s say,

katyusha, there are such family stories, they never advertised, yes, never told publicly. not because they are somehow completely secretive and secret, but maybe there was simply no reason, maybe there was no mood, maybe something else was missing, so - maybe we will remember them today, well, here we are about the soldiers let 's talk, but the thing is, not only did no one remember about them, grandfather wrote about them in his book, this story is simply not because i didn’t want to talk about it, but the subject itself did not exist, these soldiers did not exist, already after death my... uncle alexei sergeevich obraztsov, my brother, his cousin, found these soldiers at the dacha, in one of the boxes of his uncle's secretary, and the soldiers have a history described in exemplary books, the uncle is his son, this is understandable.